Chapter 3 - Clare’s Truth
Clare remained downstairs after Susan left.
Franklin found her standing beside the dining-room table, staring at the candle.
“She hates me,” Clare whispered.
Franklin poured himself a glass of wine.
“She is emotional.”
Clare looked at him.
“You brought me here on the anniversary of her miscarriage.”
“I did not think about that.”
“That is exactly the problem.”
Franklin’s jaw tightened.
Clare rested both hands over her stomach.
For months, she had believed Franklin’s version of the story. He said his marriage was already over. He said Susan had become distant after their losses. He said he stayed only because he felt guilty.
But tonight, she saw the truth.
Susan was not cold.
Susan was wounded.
And Franklin had built a new relationship while expecting his wife to carry all the pain quietly.
“Were you ever going to leave her?” Clare asked.
Franklin looked away.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After things settled.”
Clare gave a sad laugh.
“Things were never going to settle. You wanted both lives.”
Franklin’s voice sharpened.
“Do not make this harder than it is.”
Clare stared at him.
“You said Susan would understand.”
“She should.”
“She should understand that you slept with someone else while she was grieving?”
Franklin slammed his glass down.
“You do not know what our marriage was like.”
“No,” Clare said. “But I know what this house feels like.”
She looked around the dining room.
The candle.
The untouched plates.
The photograph on the sideboard showing Franklin and Susan years earlier, standing beside a Christmas tree with hopeful smiles.
“I cannot raise my baby in the middle of this,” Clare said.
Franklin looked at her sharply.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying I need time.”
“You are not leaving.”
Clare stepped back.
The certainty in his voice frightened her.
For the first time, she understood why Susan’s calm had seemed so powerful.
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Susan was not afraid of losing Franklin anymore.
And Clare suddenly feared she had given everything to a man who could not truly choose anyone.
